Where Has All Our Patience Gone?

Yesterday, I was at Home Depot buying some paint and a new lock for our front door. I spent about an hour in the store perusing the aisles for the merchandise that I needed to complete my project. As the cashier began to ring up my items, I noticed a few more customers began to congregate in line behind me.

First of all, this new chip reader thing, where you stick your credit card into the machine instead of the almighty swipe, drives me a little nuts becasue not every store has switched over to this new technology. Anyway, getting back on track here, the cashier pointed out that the machine was a chip reader. I placed my card into the machine and there in began step one of the next 20.

Next, the machine asked if I would like an e-mailed receipt in which I hit the yes button. I placed the plastic pen back into its slot and then another prompt came up on the screen. I picked up and replaced that god forsaken pen four to five different times and I finally just had to laugh at myself for looking like an idiot. The women behind me did not think it was as humorous as I did as she let out an ever so noticeable “Jesus Christ” under her breath. I stopped, took one step towards her and as I pointed my finger to the left of me, I let her know that the self check out aisle was one lane over if she was in that big of a hurry. She quickly shut her rude trap and I continued to collect my items. I could tell that the cashier was on my side as she displayed a half-assed smirk as she handed me my last bag and said “have a nice day”.


As I was driving home from my small, in store victory, I thought “where has all our patience gone?”. Are people really that busy these days that they can’t take the time to wait in line anymore?

I grew up in a small, farming community. My parents owned a slaughter house. My mother ran the front of the store and did the books, while my father worked in back butchering cows and pigs. It was not a glamorous job by any means, but, for farmers in that community, it was their livelihood and I grew up rather well. My point of this is that when I was growing up, my mother didn’t call my cell phone to tell me to come home, she yelled “time to come in” from the back porch. I played outside with my friends, NOT on the internet. If I didn’t eat what my mother made for dinner, I was going to bed hungry. Even though hand sanitizer wasn’t around that much, my mom always managed to find a bar of soap that would fit every so snug into my mouth when I said a word that came from the devil. I rode a bike without a helmet and getting dirty was the norm. I would catch minnows from the creek with the neighbor kids and would play hide and seek in the corn fields with my sister and her friends. Little did I know at the time, that was their way to “get rid of me” for a while. God I was gullible. Lastly, I drank water from a gardenhose AND I lived to tell about it.

Fast forward back to the present day. We live in a world that moves at the speed of light and we expect almost immediate access to most things. The internet puts so much information at the tips of our fingers that we forget that people need time to ask questions, figure our how something works and process that information. We are not all built the same way and displaying some sort of human kindness into everyday living is imperative (sadly some have lost that quality). Please remember this the next time you are out and about running errands and you have 100 things to get done and you get stuck behind someone in line who is unfamiliar with how to use the store’s machines and gadgets in order to check out. Instead, use that time to take a few deep breathes and appreciate the humanity that surrounds you. 20150629_064328

There are still those out there who appreciate the little things. I had this sign on my porch last summer and when I came home from work one day, I noticed that my mail lady had left me a little message. It made my day!!


Work Grind…..

The night before work always sucks for me. I will lay in bed and figure out exactly how many hours of sleep I can get, but, then I say screw it and watch one more episode of The First 48. Then the tossing and turning begins and just when I begin to slip into that sweet slumber, the stupid buzz of the alarm begins to sound off. I flip back the covers, bounce off the wall a few times while simultaneously tripping over one of the two dogs and realize that my day has begun. 2016-02-26 16.41.16 (1)

The dogs are now eating, the coffee is brewing and I am doing everything in my power to get into the shower that has been running for a good 10 minutes already. I grab my coffee mug, let the dogs out for one last tinkle, and I am on my way to the hospital. I can immediately sense how the night has gone when I walk onto the unit. If the nurses are all sitting on their asses at the desk, I know hand off report will be short and sweet and they will most likely be in their cars and out of the parking ramp by 7:31 a.m. On the other end of the spectrum, if I walk onto the unit and there is not a soul in site, the cardiac monitor paper is spilling out onto the floor, and the call lights are dinging in a not so lovely harmony, I immediately start digging for the hair binder in the bottom of my bag cause I know it’s going to be a shit storm of a day in the intensive care unit. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE my job as a bedside ICU nurse. What I dread is management asking if I have updated my plan of care on the white board in the patient room, have I offered the patient holistic healing, did you chart your restraints, your patient needs pain meds, the social worker needs you to fill out a form for the nursing home, the bed controls aren’t working so could you call engineering, and your other patient is having chest pain. This is my life. 096b2759c34ad26d053c07fa92e66ed9

Day after day I give 110% to my patients and their families. Physically, by the end of my 12 hour shift, I am sore, stinky, cranky and hungry. Thankfully I am blessed to have a man in my life that just gets me. He will come into the bedroom, kiss me on the lips, ask if I need anything and then kindly leaves me to unwind. Eventually I make my way to him, after I have showered of course.  We all should have someone in our lives like this. Someone that is their for us to lean on, be our punching bag when we are pissed and have no one else to vent to, someone to go grab a burger with, or just to ask about the day. Oh yea, did I mention he is a complete crazy person?? He surprised me this year by bringing home a 12 foot, Griswald family Christmas tree for the 2016 festivities. I currently have a go fund me account so I can afford to decorate this bastard. At the end of the day, I love my life, I just hate the repetition of it all sometimes.


The Meaning of Easter

Just the other day, I was at the nail salon as I was in dire need of a manicure. The tech working on my nails was Asian and she asked me “why does an egg symbolize Easter in this country”.  It dawned on me that I had absolutely no clue. It’s one of many things that I am clueless about, I openly admit that (thank the lord for search engines). The history of Easter is linked with Christian faith and early pagan religions. For Christians such as myself, it is a time to celebrate Christ’s resurrection from the dead following his death on Good Friday a.k.a  today!  (Happy Good Friday to those of you who are Christian).

The Easter Holiday is named after a goddess named Saxon who also goes by the name Ostara if you are from Germany. She symbolizes dawn and spring and her name is derived by words that describe a shining light that arises from the west (the dawn). Ostara had a passion for new life and her presence is felt and witnessed through the flowering of plants and the birth of children and animals. She considered the rabbit the most sacred animal of all.

Eggs symbolize fertility and are often used in rituals to guarantee a woman’s ability to bear children. “Granny women” are midwives and healers that live in the Appalachian mountains. They continue to use eggs in order to predict the gender of an unborn child.

Colored eggs are given as gifts in many cultures. Decorated eggs symbolize prosperity for the abundance during the coming year.

As a child, every year my sisters and mother would watch the movie The Ten Commandments. We participated in the rituals of coloring eggs and eagerly searched the house to find our Easter baskets on that Sunday morning before heading to church. I remember the year my mother thought she was being so sneaky hiding it behind the big, boxed television set. It was always stuffed with that paper confetti string, my favorite candies and some sort of coloring book. To this day, my mother continues to watch The Ten Commandments every Easter as she is a devoted woman to her faith and church.

This Easter Sunday, I challenge you all to appreciate the sounds of spring, notice the blooming plants around you, and be grateful for another year of good health and prosperity. Oh yea, enjoy your chocolate bunnies, Cadbury eggs and marshmallow chicks too!!

Best Regards,

Kristine D.



Taking It All In…….

As a child, I relished in the fact that I had two sets of grandparents, both of my parents and two sisters. Throughout the years, those grandparents have passed on, my parents are leading separate lives, and the two sisters, have turned into one.  Life…..it can be one stingy bitch that makes you work hard for every single thing while others seem to have it all fall right into their laps (lucky shits!). Then there are days, like the one in this picture, where I wouldn’t change a thing. The beauty of nature, the sounds of summer and the smells floating through the air reeking of BBQ’s, campfires and laughter. These are the days that I cherish, not the one’s that broke me down.

Now at the age of 40, I look back and remember when my grandfather Valentine, yes that is his real name, would pick me and my sister up at 5 a.m. to help him deliver the Sunday newspapers. He drove a maroon colored van, the one where the door slides open. My grandmother was always seated in the front passenger seat, however, she would never get out because her arthritis was short of crippling her so my mom always strolled outside to greet her mother. I hated getting up that early on a Sunday morning as a child. As soon as I stumbled into the van, I could smell the ink of the newspapers and I would always hug my grandma from behind the seat.  As we headed down the dirt road, I knew I was in for a long morning of running papers and digging aluminum cans out of ditches that were in the middle of nowhere. My grandfather collected all types of metals. He cashed in his aluminum cans every few months and he ALWAYS knew what the current price of silver and oil barrels were going for. At the end of the day, he would always take my sister and I to the corner store and let us pick out a candy bar. At the time, I never realized that one day, he would be gone. My grandfather passed away in his sleep almost 12 years ago and not a day goes by where I don’t think of him whether it be when I see an aluminum can or a penny laying on the ground. He always told us kids to “keep your heads down, cause that’s where the money is”.  My grandfather taught us many valuable lessons in life, but, the most valuable of them all was to work hard, worry about yourself and always tell the truth. There have been times where I could be having the worst day and I look down and I’ll find a penny laying right next to my foot. That’s when I know he’s there to remind me about the important things in life. Thanks grandpa.